


What If It's Us?

by iggycakes



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.1 patch trailer gave me emotions, F/M, Gen, He deserves EVERYTHING, M/M, ambiguous WoL, crystal exarch protection squad, its soft and short, let him love himself more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 16:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggycakes/pseuds/iggycakes
Summary: WoL makes the Exarch read their own adventures to them because they love the sound of his voice.





	What If It's Us?

**Author's Note:**

> im working on a huge wolexarch au fic im not sure i'll even finish/be able to post so i wrote something quick because i have feelings......... this one's to the tune of "What If It's Us" from Dear Evan Hansen

The Exarch looked away from Edmont’s journal for a moment to look down at the Warrior of Light’s face. They were lying down on his lap, looking up at him with soft, sleepy eyes, waiting patiently for him to continue with the story.

“Hm?” 

“It’s just…” He blushed, ears flattening against his head. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

The Warrior of Light reached out to trace the crystal on his cheek, running their fingers gently across the lines. They let go after a moment, their lips stretched into a thin smile. “Not at all.”

He gaped at them, blinking a few times before regaining enough composure to clear his throat. “Ah, well.” Then, he pouted. “That’s unfair. Why should I be the only one embarrassed?”

“ _ You’re  _ embarrassed?” An inch of mischief appeared in their smile. 

“Yes! I mean, these are  _ your  _ tales. It seems redundant to repeat them to you.” The Exarch turned his eyes back to the journal, the pages of which were horribly worn from years and years of perusal.

A long time ago, he had read the tales to Lyna, when she was still young and she, too, would often grab the tome off the shelf and ask him to read to her. But the Warrior of Light was, one, not a small child and, two, knew these stories better than anyone, having actually  _ lived  _ them.

Still, when they asked, the Exarch didn’t refuse. He chalked it up to curiosity. Maybe they wanted to know how it sounded like from an outer perspective. Yes, that had to be it. 

However, as the Exarch began to read through the journal entries detailing the adventures the Warrior of Light undertook to end the thousand year long conflict between the Ishgardians and the Dravanians, he noticed the Warrior of Light drift off occasionally. Those determined eyes of theirs looked straight past him, into their own memories of those events. Some seemed to bring them some measure of joy, others left them languid at best, pained at worst. 

The Exarch’s own curiosities couldn’t help but boil at the surface. How he longed to hear of the Warrior of Light’s journeys from their own lips. To hear about their travel through Ishgard. What were Estinien and Lady Iceheart like? Was it hard? The Warrior of Light he knew from the stories was always larger than life, always so confident and self-assured. 

It was hard  _ not  _ to idolize them.To accept the Warrior of Light could be an ordinary person when so many of the things they accomplished was so  _ extra _ ordinary. It was a fact the Exarch often had to remind himself.

The Exarch brush some of the hair from the Warrior of Light’s face. “What is it like?”

“What is what like?”

“Hearing about the things you’ve done.”

The smile faded slightly. “‘Tis strange. It doesn’t sound real.”

The Warrior of Light took the Exarch’s hand from his face, intertwining their fingers together. The Exarch held their hand tight, for support. “The count’s writing is very elegant. Poetic, even.”

“If I may be honest,” They twirled their fingers again, pressing against the Exarch’s knuckles in a gentle massage. The Warrior’s skin was so coarse and calloused. “I just love the sound of your voice.”

Then quiet moments like these came gently, as easy as breathing, and the Exarch could feel like the whole world fell away. That there was them and only them, surrounded by the soft blue tint of the Ocular, resting in the comfort of each other’s company. Nothing else mattered here but them.

“Should I continue then?” 

He didn’t need facades. He didn’t need secrets or the burden of responsibility. He didn’t need the guilt, nor the feeling that he didn’t deserve such indulgences. When the Warrior of Light spoke, the Exarch was reminded of his worth. 

If his beloved treasured him so, should he not do the same? Should he not endeavor to care for himself as much as they did? This life that he had been so careless with-- burdened to keep for the sole purpose of saving  _ them _ \-- if he did not keep it safe, after everything the Warrior of Light did to protect them, then he would be ashamed. He did not want to be their failure. So long as his company continue to bring them joy, he would remain. He would do anything.

And, perhaps, the Exarch was also starting to understand.

He wanted to live. He wanted more moments like these. 

“Please,”

The Warrior of Light spoke softly, adjusting themselves on his lap to get cozy. The Exarch smiled, lifting Edmont’s journal in front of him. 

His voice filled the room once again with the poetry of Heavensward, with the grand tales of a humble adventurer who trailed across the continent to save their friends and make the world a better place.The Exarch read it as though its protagonist wasn’t present. The Warrior of Light listened as though they were listening to a fairy tale. And, for a moment, just as moment, it felt as though everything was right.

  
-0-


End file.
